


Cut the Conversation, Just Open Your Mouth

by orbiting_saturn



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbiting_saturn/pseuds/orbiting_saturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is back to shirtless, slurping cold tap water in Jeff’s clean kitchen. Jeff always watches shamelessly, lets Jensen feel the weight of his stare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut the Conversation, Just Open Your Mouth

Once you hit a certain age, one year doesn’t really seem like that long a time. Jeff isn’t quite sure when years seemed to slide by as fast as a day, but he figures it was somewhere in his mid-twenties. He lost a lot of his impatience, a lot of his desire for instant gratification. Jeff is the kind of man who likes to savor life, let it be lived day by day and enjoy all of the small pleasures he’s earned. To some it might seem counter-intuitive, but when you live each hour and day at a time, they manage to drift along way too quickly. 

This last year though, this last year has dragged and dragged. 

Jeff didn’t start panting over the neighbor boy from the first moment he saw him. Jensen Ackles was just another decoration that Jeff had to get used to, to learn how to appreciate. Like the bird bath on the Frasier’s front lawn that attracted more mosquitos than it did birds. Or the sadly rusting classic Chevy that Mr. Hodges kept parked in his driveway. And the sagging rain gutter on the side of Abby Moore’s house because she’s a single mom with too much pride to let the new guy fix it for her, no matter how many times Jeff has offered. 

When Jeff first moved into the slightly upper-middle class neighborhood, Jensen Ackles was just a skinny neighbor kid who played basketball with his obnoxious friends in his driveway. Sure, he was already a little prettier than most of them, but he didn’t draw any more attention than the rest of them. He was a little quieter, more reserved, and Jeff liked that about him. He never had to worry about Jensen running over his lawn or TPing his trees on Halloween night like the Browers’ boy four houses down. 

It wasn’t until a spring day one year back, Jensen freshly seventeen, asked to mow Jeff’s lawn for $10 bucks a pop because he was saving up for a car. The first, second and third times Jensen came by with his puttering lawnmower, Jeff had barely noticed him. It wasn’t until the fourth time, when Jensen had knocked on his front door for a glass of water that Jeff had realized exactly what he had been missing this whole time.

That day had been especially warm, nearing ninety degrees. When Jeff swung the door open, Jensen stood there, wiping down the side of his neck with a balled up t-shirt. The full length of Jensen’s freckled chest was bare, sun-pinkened skin shining in fresh, musky sweat that Jeff could smell from a foot away. The kid was in a pair of low-slung board shorts, the waistband of his underwear just peeking over the edge. His sockless feet were shoved into a pair of dirty Nikes, strong legs dusted in light colored hair. This skinny kid had put on some wiry muscle in the last year, dipping and rising over strong bones and hinting at a potential for power. Jeff stared for a really inappropriate length of time.

“Mr. Morgan?” Jensen had asked, something in his tone saying it was possibly repeated a couple of times. 

“Sure, kid,” Jeff said, blinking away the vision of too-lean, too-young burned into his retinas. 

Jensen was smirking quietly while he followed Jeff into the kitchen and Jeff is pretty sure it was intentional when the kid tilted the cold glass of water just a little too far back, glistening droplet spilling past the corner of plush lips, rolling down his jaw and neck. After that, Jensen asked for a glass of water every time he mowed Jeff’s lawn.

The winter days trickled by interminably long with no visits from Jensen, but Jeff saw him sometimes, walking home from school or after going out with his friends. Jensen always waved, gave him a private smile that curled heat low in Jeff’s belly. It all ignited a simmering kind of wanting. 

Jeff isn’t so much older than Jensen that he feels unforgivably dirty for jerking off to thoughts of Jensen, but it’s a very near thing. Jeff’s past thirty and Jensen still underage, young enough for society to call him a pervert if they knew how he thought of fitting himself between Jensen’s bowed legs.

It’s the following summer now and Jensen is back to shirtless, slurping cold tap water in Jeff’s clean kitchen. Jeff always watches shamelessly, lets Jensen feel the weight of his stare, always lingering overlong on the crotch of Jensen’s shorts. 

Jensen finishes and licks water drops from his lips with a slurp, passes the back of his hand over his mouth. It’s reddened from the sun, the cold of the water and the friction of his hand. It would look amazing around Jeff’s dick, stretched obscenely around the girth. It would probably still be cool, but Jeff could warm it up really good, slide his cock in and out until it was all bleeding heat. 

“Got my car, you know?” Jensen tells him, setting his water glass on the counter and leaning back against the cabinets.

“Oh, yeah?” Jeff mumbles, shoulder propped in the doorway, keeping physical distance while he eye-fucks Alan Ackles’ youngest boy. Jeff likes Alan, feels almost bad for all the things he’s thought of doing to his kid. But with the cocky jut of Jensen’s hips, that secret smile on that slutty mouth, who could blame him really?

“Yeah, Mom and Dad paid for half. For my birthday.” Jensen hooks his elbows back on the edge of the counter and his hips push out just a little be further. It’s one of those casually provocative poses Jensen’s been throwing Jeff’s way for the last year. “My _eighteenth_ birthday,” 

Jeff doesn’t miss the emphasis. Neither does he miss the way Jensen’s hips rock forward a little, seesawing back and forth in a seemingly casual dance. 

“Eighteen, huh?” Jeff finally responds, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s a pretty big milestone, kiddo. All kinds of things you can do now. Smoke, gamble, vote.”

Jeff’s barely paused when Jensen jumps in, “ _Fuck_.”

There’s this little tilt to Jensen’s pink lips, a knowing half smile. A slash of sunlight is pouring in through the kitchen window and brightens Jensen’s green eyes under the long, long lashes. In every line of Jensen’s lazy sprawl is an innocent invitation, that bared, freckled chest on full display for Jeff. The cut of Jensen’s hips leads tantalizingly into the low waist of his shorts and saliva bursts over Jeff’s tongue, mouth all but watering with the need to taste, to set the very tip of his tongue in that little dent and follow it all the way down. 

But, it’s a dangerous game, this. Jeff can’t be the one to start it. He shifts against the doorframe, the wood digging hard into the meat of his shoulder and his own smile dissolves into a firm, straight line. It makes the muscles in his face ache a little, but that happy hum along his skin goes nowhere, even ramps up a little. 

“I’m sure legalities weren’t keeping you from doing _that_ ,” Jeff finally responds in a roughed out voice. 

Jensen gives him a one-shouldered shrug, the motion loosing a little drop of sweat to slip down the column of his neck. Jeff follows its path hungrily, dipping over the rise of Jensen’s pec and zigzagging around a light pink nipple. “Sure, I have,” Jensen answers, still going for that unconcerned tone, but falling just short of the mark when it wavers a little. “But with other kids. Not with who I really wanted.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeff asks, wetting his dry lips with his very slick tongue. “And who is it you _really_ wanted?”

Jensen’s eyes finally shift away from Jeff, just fluttering off to the left and his lashes drifting half-closed over his pinked up cheeks. “You know, man. Don’t make me say it.”

And there it is, the nervous teen, just a shade of awkward in a cocksure kid, shifting anxiously against the edge of Jeff’s kitchen counter. It should stop Jeff in his tracks, douse his arousal like a bucket of cold water, but what it does instead is swell him full in his jeans. Jeff wants Jensen out of sorts, wants him a little shy and boyish ‘cause it makes it just a little naughtier. 

Jeff shifts out of his lean, shoulder off the door and one hand goes down, adjusts the weight of his dick with one squeezing hand. “Think you’re gonna have to, kid,” Jeff forces out, voice strange and foreign, demanding and maybe a little mean. “And I’mma need you to look at me when you say it.”

That full lower lip gets caught up by sharp, white teeth, just a short bite and scrape making it red and wet. Jeff didn’t realize it, but he’s still got his hand on is dick, just resting there, but the sight has his hips pushing out into the pressure. “It’s you,” Jensen whispers, gaze still hovering past Jeff’s shoulder, into the dimness of the front room. Jensen forces his eyes over that last inch, fixes them firm to Jeff’s heated stare and says, “Of course, it’s you.”

And that’s it. Jeff’s across the room in four long strides, his hands slamming down on the counter to either side of Jensen. The kid jumps and gasps a little, but he doesn’t shrink back from Jeff leaning in, just trembles some while Jeff nuzzles into his neck. Jeff lets his two-day stubble scrape and scratch that fine skin, breathes in the fresh sweat while his lips graze under Jensen’s ear.

“What do you want, kid?” Jeff asks, gently catching Jensen’s lobe on his lower lip, just lets the weight rest there while his tongue flirts a little. “You want me to fuck you?”

A long, hard shudder goes through Jensen, jerks his chest into Jeff’s where he’s been holding himself back a little. They aren’t pressed together, still some hot air swirling between their bodies. Jeff gets one foot wedged between Jensen’s ankles and kicks them apart, makes space for himself between Jensen’s legs. Just that, just the thought of it has Jeff’s dick weeping in his shorts.

“I-“ Jensen stops and swallows loudly, still leaning back on his elbows, but straining and humming beneath Jeff. “I- yeah, if you want to.” 

The hesitation in Jensen’s voice warms Jeff a little, dims his urgency to a slow crawl. He remembers that Jensen’s just a boy, despite the big talk and swagger. Oh, he _is_ going to fuck him, gonna see that sweet little ass stretched around his cock, but not just yet. Jeff wants Jensen to want it, want it so hard he can’t think from it. 

A humming laugh roils out of Jeff, gets all smeared into Jensen’s skin where he’s tasting in kitten licks. “Not yet,” Jeff soothes, brings one hand down to palm Jensen’s bare and sweaty waist. 

Jeff pulls back to look at Jensen, sees his pupils blown, all low-lashed and pretty pink. He puts some small space between their bodies, but strokes soothingly over the goose-pimpled skin of Jensen’s side. “Take your dick out, Jen. Lemme see if it’s as pretty as the rest of you.”

Jensen huffs and flushes darker, but he obeys, reaching down between them to unbutton his shorts with long, trembling fingers. Jeff tilts his head down to watch and their foreheads press together. Jensen’s hair is all tickly and sweaty while they watch together. Jensen gets his fly undone and hooks his thumbs into shorts and underwear, pulls them out and over the jut of his flushed dick. 

The elastic of boxer briefs snug up under Jensen’s balls while his loose shorts fall to mid-thigh. The kid’s pubes are a darker shade than his hair, a little shiny with sweat and sparse. “Yeah, you are,” Jeff sighs happily. “Fucking pretty everywhere.” 

The funny thing is, Jeff usually prefers women. Yeah, he fucks men when it’s easier, when he’s got some twinky thing practically throwing himself on his dick. But Jeff’s never quite wanted another guy the way he wants this fresh thing, Jensen so shyly baring his body for Jeff. It’s so sweet it’s making Jeff’s mouth water. It’s making him want things he usually doesn’t. 

Without another thought, Jeff sinks to his knees, gripping the counter to keep his descent slow.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Jensen gasps, hips stuttering on an aborted thrust. Jeff glances up, sees Jensen looking down on him with wide eyes. 

Jeff wants to break him, break him in and show him everything his perfect body is good for. “Don’t come until I tell you,” Jeff warns, skimming his stubble-rough chin through the thin line of hair angling towards Jensen’s full cock.

He hasn’t done this much, usually preferring to be on the receiving end, so maybe his technique isn’t refined enough to tease. Jeff just pops the head of Jensen’s nicely sized dick between his lips. It’s salty and a little bitter, bleeding drips of precome into the curve of his tongue. Jensen cuts off a cry, slaps his hand against the counter. 

Jeff remembers being eighteen, remembers how he could go off like a shot and be ready for more in minutes. He’s gonna test that awesome refractory time later, but for now he brings his hand down, squeezes the base of Jensen’s dick to stave off orgasm. Jensen gives him a squeaky little moan.

The full weight in Jeff’s mouth is better than he ever remembers it being, stretching his drooling mouth around the girth, taking in inch by slow inch. He stops before it can nudge against his gag reflex, wants to work himself up to that, but he’ll get there. Sliding back with the slightest suction, Jeff palms Jensen’s hip to feel the fine tremors, muscles fighting the urge to just thrust and fuck. He’s surprised and pleased by Jensen’s restraint and rewards him with a flick of tongue over the wet slit.

Jensen is so hot and tangy in Jeff’s mouth, has him drooling around the stretch so he has to slurp all sloppily. It does nothing for the way spit sneaks past the corners of his lips. It sounds really nasty and hot, reminds Jeff of his own hard-on leaking in his jeans. 

Eager to get his, Jeff lets go, starts bobbing his mouth up and down the length of Jensen’s dick. The grip his hand has on what his mouth can’t reach loosens and gets in on the game. He starts really working, sucking and rubbing, teeth cutting into his lips. Jeff forgets to be careful and is surprised by how easily his throat opens up. The head pops past his gag reflex, pops out again, saltier and slicker with precome.

“Jeff, Jeff,” Jensen pants above him, all desperate and eager. “I can’t, I’m gonna, _please_.”

Jeff hums his consent around the meat of Jensen’s dick, opens himself up and fucks his mouth down. He swallows around the head, eyes stinging tears, pulls back just in time for Jensen to pulse and swell. The first splash of come hits Jeff’s pallet, pours into him with all that cock-hungry drool and slides past the edges onto his chin. 

Too much come pumps out of Jensen, so much slick that Jeff has to pull back or choke on it. He keeps his hand working the last of it, a good long shot spilling over his fingers and hitting the tightening muscles of Jensen’s abs. Another couple of spurts, Jeff watching the way Jensen’s slit opens wide to loose it, kid fucking his aftershocks into Jeff’s fist so desperately.

When it’s done, Jensen hisses and collapses against the counter, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum as he fights gravity. 

Jeff’s dick is out of his pants before he even makes it back to his feet. He’s on Jensen fast as a breath, grabbing and pushing his loose body where he needs it. A grunt punches out of Jeff when the full line of his cock slides through the slimy trail of Jensen’s come. It lines up beautifully in the cut of Jensen’s hip and he thrusts hard. It’s been fucking years since Jeff has rubbed off on someone, but it’s perfect and exactly what he wants right now. 

Hips grinding into muscle and skin, Jeff lives for the slick slide of his dick through Jensen’s come, all that young spunk he worked out with his mouth. It’s hotter than it has any right to be and Jeff has to hold onto something. One hand slips into the small of Jensen’s back and drags him into the next thrust. The other hand curves Jensen’s skull, tugs his head to the side so he can press his face behind his ear. 

Jeff’s mouth goes filthy like it’s never been with another lover, mind gone on the bliss of Jensen’s skinny, new body. “Gonna fuck you, Jen, fuck your tight little ass. Make you come on my fingers and then, fuck, oh fuck, I’mma a lube you up with your own come. Gonna get my cock so deep in your ass, you’ll be feelin’ me for days.”

Jensen sighs and pushes back against Jeff’s next thrust. The kid finally touches Jeff for the first time, slides both hands around to clutch Jeff’s ass and pull him in for the next dirty drag and it’s done. Jeff goes over the edge with his teeth on Jensen’s neck, bites his bliss onto that pale skin where it’ll show for days to come. He dirties Jensen up with more slick, pumps it out between their bellies, eyes screwed shut and hands hard. 

All finished and spent, Jeff falls into Jensen. They’re both sweaty and fucked out, but Jensen holds Jeff up like a champ. The kid is stronger than he looks, arms wrapped tight around Jeff’s waist. He’s breathing fast still, puffing warm through the cotton of Jeff’s damp t-shirt. Jensen opens his mouth there, wets the material some more with his tongue.

“I’ll let you,” Jensen finally rasps, lips catching. One of his hands flattens in the curve of Jeff’s back and slides down, grips Jeff’s right cheek with a squeeze. “But I wanna fuck you too. Got a real fine ass, old man.”

Jeff barks out a laugh, shocked and proud and warm. He pulls back, angles Jensen’s face towards his and blinks the sweat-sting from his eyes. “Yeah,” Jeff says through a smile. “We’ll see.”

And kisses Jensen.


End file.
